


ghosts in the dead of night

by VITRI0L



Category: DreamSMP, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Anxiety, Bittersweet, Broken Families, Closure, Death, DreamSMP - Freeform, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Ghosts, Memory Loss, Pain, Separation Anxiety, dadza come on man, i needed closure & i needed them to be friends again, no beta we die like men, no thoughts just feeling soft :), panic attacks/referenced panic attacks, tommy centric (2nd chapter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:00:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27644477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VITRI0L/pseuds/VITRI0L
Summary: Wilbur sits and watches the sun set. Jschlatt is content to just watch with him.**new tags for the new chapter!**
Relationships: Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot, No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 204





	1. dead and gone

**Author's Note:**

> this is based of a short animation i saw on tik tok. it made me sad and desperate for these two to make up. i just needed some closure lol
> 
> enjoy <3

Wilbur sat at the edge of cliff, staring out at the sunset. He was in the grass, by Tommy’s home, but he couldn’t feel the pricks of the grass on his skin and no one would notice him if they walked by.

The dying light of the day danced through his iridescent and transparent limbs. The wind that would normally rustle his unruly hair now passed right through him.

Because he was dead.

Out of the corner of his eye, Wil noticed a figure approaching him. At first, the apparition figured it was just a human, so he nearly jumped out of his seat when the other sat next to him and said,

“Hey, Wilbur Soot.”

The brunet looked over, heart racing nervously. Wilbur just rolled his eyes playfully, and felt a calm relief warm his body.

“Hey, Schlatt.”

The man with goat horns and curly brown hair that connect to those mutton chops gave him a small smile. Wil wrinkled his nose, still feeling that same warmth spread through his chest cavity.

“You look so old with that damn hair,” he complained, “Like, older than me, mate. Shave it.”

Schlatt just chuckled, gazing out across the world.

“Maybe that’s the reason I died the way I did.”

Wilbur jolted back, adrenaline numbing his thoughts. He searched the other man’s face, for anything at all that might tell him Schlatt was lying. All he found was a peacefully sad smile dancing on his lips and reaching deep into his eyes. Wil felt his heart crack a little.

“You... you remember how you died?” Wilbur asked, sounding rather breathless.

“Yeah,” Schlatt said, eyes meeting, “It was a heart attack, of all things. Though, I don’t remember anything that led up to it.”

Wil ran a hand through his hair, unable to help the disappointment that surfaced. He knew he shouldn’t push the other, but his mind demanded answers.

“Do you remember anything else...?”

Schlatt let out a sharp laugh that surprised Wilbur. He quieted, eyes reflecting the warm sunlight.

“I remember the pain,” he murmured.

Wilbur flinched and regret etched its way into his heart. The words burnt him and he frowned, the emptiness unable to be dissipated. Though, his mind’s need for answers finally quieted.

“Fuck, sorry... I didn’t mean to force you to say anything,” Wilbur gave his friend a lopsided smile, “I just- I don’t even remember how I died.”

“You just woke up?” Schlatt asked, sounding as incredulous as ever.

Wil hummed, suddenly wanting to end this conversation. In a twisted way, he was jealous that Schlatt remember his death. Nothing was more painful than waking up and discovering that the people you loved, you would never get to speak to again.

Wilbur remembered how desperately he’d wished for a second death when he tried to talk to his brothers and Phil, their father. That was the day he also found out ghosts could cry. A lot.

Almost as if sensing Wil’s conflict, Schlatt softened his tone.

“What’s your last memory,” he asked gently.

Wilbur liked... no **hated** the way that tone made him feel like a child.

“Uh... it’d have to be the day you joined to say hi to Tommy,” Wilbur said slowly.

His memories were hazy and so jumbled that it nearly gave the man a headache just thinking about it. None of it made much sense to him, so Wil never tried to press it.

“Thanks for that, by the way,” the brunet said, smile creeping onto his lips, “He might not have seemed it, but Toms was happy to meet you.”

Schlatt snorted lightly, and gave a wave of dismissal as if he’d already know this. Wilbur just raised a question eyebrow at his friend.

“Yeah, I mean, I figured,” he said, smiling at Wil, “Sure, the kid can be a lot, but he’s going places. So, don’t worry about it.”

“But, yeah. I remember you getting kicked out, and then I was supposed to leave that day. But, then... the next day, Tommy needed help... with- something, so I guess I stayed?” Wilbur continued, rubbing a palm into his temple.

“Same as my last memory, expect for the coming back part,” Schlatt said calmly. 

The two turned to look at the sky, now darkened and dotted with the white lights of infinitesimal stars. The pale moon hung lazily in the sky, and the night sat untouchable to those on the ground, only bending to the light of day.

“So, this is it, huh,” Schlatt asked, breaking the silence that blanketed them.

“I suppose so,” Wil responded, looking up and half over his shoulder at the former business man, “I’m glad you’re here, though.”

“Well, of course,” was the typical response.

Wilbur snorted, but the night sky seemed to have a kind of pull on him. The depths of the galaxy and all the secrets that it held made him feel... sentimental.

“How or why do you think we died?” he pondered, “What do you think you were up to?”

“Nothing good!” Schlatt called loudly into the darkness.

Wilbur reached out and punched his friend square in the shoulder, fully expecting his fist to go right through. 

It did not. 

His hand connected with Schlatt’s shoulder and for a moment, nothing happened. And in the moment, Wilbur could feel Schlatt’s arm and the warmth that seemed to burn underneath his skin caused Wil’s heart to ache and he didn’t wish for death, but _life because he wanted it all just to go back the way it was, why can’t he go back..._

Schlatt’s yell pulled Wil right back to reality and the brunet let his hand slip back to his side.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” his friend yelled.

“I’m so sorry... Schlatt, that was an accident ,” Wil explained.

“How was that an accident?! You just HIT me!”

“No, I promise it was,” Wil tried to push down the laughter that bubbled in his throat.

_This feels so familiar._

That’s how they continued, arguing back and forth until Wilbur finally dissolved into laughter. Schlatt smiled fondly as Wil laughed, nostalgia and a burning warmth weighing heavy on their hearts. 

The ghosts sat together through the night. They didn’t say much more, but they didn’t need to. The wind blew through them and the light of the moon couldn’t touch them either. 

They sat together until the morning, lost in the thoughts they couldn’t remember but reunited at each other’s side.

And they remained untouchable, just like the Universe.

Finally brought together in Death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anytime i read “Toms” in a found family fic about Sleepy Bois Inc., my heart melts


	2. gone but not forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone finds Wil and Schlatt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one’s for idunnowhatimdoinghere3
> 
> enjoy :)

Wilbur sat in the rushing river, unable to feel the cold water wash over his warm skin and make his fingers go numb. He missed the feeling, golden yellow sweater and black jeans without a drop of water on them.

“You’re so stupid,” Schlatt said from his position on the bank of the river.

Wil just laughed and turned to face his friend with a joyful look in his chocolate eyes. 

“If I could, I’d splash water at you,” he stated.

Schlatt pointed at him, a small smile on his lips and an equally playful look on his face.

“But, the point is you can’t.”

The brunet rolled his eyes.

“How are you feeling,” Schlatt asked after a few moments.

Wilbur floated himself out of the water, situating himself next to his friend, feet still in the water. He stared at where the water should have been displaced by his feet, the emptiness that usually haunted him feeling less empty.

“I’m ok,” he said after a while, “Just... sad? I dunno, it’s all very confusing.”

Schlatt hummed.

“Though, you have a few more memories now,” he said, sounding uncharacteristically positive.

This was true, as Wil’s memory had grown over the time they’d spent together. Though, there were huge gaps still and a bunch of important stuff still missing.

“I only remember the good parts,” he said quietly, a quiet disappointment thrumming throughout his body.

“And maybe that’s all you need,” Schlatt murmured.

The words lit Wilbur’s mind on fire, burning his nerves and melting his heart. Thoughts were suddenly an impossibility and all he could do was feel. 

All these shapeless emotions filled him as the brunet laid down in the grass, eyes covered with a hazy and distant look. Schlatt’s lap was right next to his head and as he looked into the blue sky with unseeing eyes, a warm hand threaded through his brown locks.

The weight of the other’s hand anchored the brunet and pulled his thoughts back into his mind. 

_How... how had he managed to make all of my doubts disappear?_

Neither one said another word, understanding the silence that stretched between them and pulled them closer. Schlatt’s hand in Wil’s hair and Wil’s hand draped over Schlatt’s knee, they stayed that why for the rest of the day, unwilling to be without each other.

What they wouldn’t know, however, was that they hadn’t been alone.

•••

Tommy loathed those words with every fibre in his body. They lit a fire in his heart and it raged for hours, consuming everything in its way.

Here Lies Wilbur Soot Watson  
“Independence or death. We would rather die than join you.”

Here Lies Jonathon J. Schlatt  
A fearsome leader and an even more fearsome friend.

The graves had the bodies of Tommy’s two heros beneath them. The teen could feel anger burn, as well as something more... something deeper. The blond had never been good with feelings (it must run in the family), but all he knew was the violent side of him wanted to unearth those bodies for what the two had put everyone through.

Tommy unconsciously began to walk to that ravine after he’d passed by the graves once more. It was instinct by now, and the blond had been too lost in his thoughts to notice.

Something bitter poured through him when Tommy realized where he was. His tongue tasted sour and his heart thudded painfully. He didn’t need to remember this place, not anymore. It only caused poisonous memories to swim to the surface and Tommy didn’t want to feel them burn through his mind and tear through his heart.

Not today, at least.

The teen closed his shaking palms into fists, steadying himself. He tore his eyes away from the dirt entrance to Pogtopia, ready to go back home.

But his weary eyes fell upon a sight that caused the teen’s breath to catch harshly in his dry throat.

There were two figures sitting along the river bank, backs facing him. Tommy didn’t need them to turn around to recognize that amber sweater or those ram like horns. Schlatt sat while Wilbur laid beside him. A hand in dark brown hair and the other’s hand on a thigh, there was nothing but a peaceful calmness to them.

Tommy didn’t know how to react, his mind froze and he thought he stopped breathing. 

Something erupted in his chest, making the blond turn on his heels and race back to New L’Manburg. The feeling soared through his viens and made tears burn the corners of his eyes. It made him choke, and the tears dampened his cheeks.

He ran right into the market place of the new city, uncaring of the people that stood around him. His lungs burned and no matter how hard he tried, Tommy couldn’t seem to force air into them. His limbs tingled harshly, and there was a fire spreading through his chest. His throat closed and his vision blurred. 

Thoughts raced through his mind, but there were too many, _it’s too much, too much, too much, make it STOP...._

The blond felt panic bubble in his chest, but it did nothing to dissipate the weight in his chest and the feeling that caused him to sob uncontrollably in a public place.

 _TommyInnit doesn’t cry,_ his mind said distantly.

“-ommy?”

A voice called out, supposedly to him. Tommy couldn’t focus though, as air still refused to corporate with him. It was getting harder to think, his limbs felt like they were floating and the fire only spread faster.

Tommy saw the outline of someone crouch beside him (when had he fallen to the ground?), and they placed a tentative hand on his shoulder.

The blond could only make out a flash of black and green fabric before he threw himself up and into the person.

Tommy wrapped his arms tightly, feeling the solidifying presence of another. The tightness in his throat and lungs was gone, and oxygen rushed painfully in. Tommy gasped weakly and took another few breaths before he drowned in that feeling again.

It was a sweet feeling, one that reminded him of a kind of love. But this feeling was also sharp, and painful, like a rose with thorns. The thorns buried themselves into Tommy’s heart and he let out a pitiful sob.

“Tommy, shhhh,” came a familiar voice.

Phil wrapped his own arms around the trembling teen. Tommy gasped, and felt a warmth flood his body. He felt safe, a feeling that had eluded him for ages now. He’d forgotten how _good_ a simple hug could be.

Phil let Tommy cry and shout, uncaring that they were out in the town square. Tommy screamed until his throat gave out and cried until the tears wouldn’t fall anymore. 

A tidal wave had crashed through Tommy, destroying all his barriers and pulling up the worst emotions with its watery destruction. Nothing was safe. The wave was gone as soon as it had came, leaving Tommy with nothing but the worst parts of himself.

He hated it.

His mind went blank and exhaustion blanketed him as he weakly laid his head on his dad’s shoulders. Tommy vaguely remembered being picked up (how did Phil do that, the teen towered over the man), and being gently consoled as he was brought into a home (he had no idea whose).

Phil laid the teen in a bed (it was Tommy’s bed, he know realized), and threaded his fingers through Tommy’s messy hair. 

When the pain had finally stopped, the thorns pulled from his heart. It left only that warm, gentle fullness in his heart. The emotion soothed every sharp thought and silenced all the negative emotions Tommy had grown accustomed to drowning in. There was no voice to remind him how Phil had murdered Wilbur, no resentment caused by the neglect he felt, no hatred towards his shattered family. 

Just a beautiful warmth that burned the teen in the best way possible.

Tommy couldn’t remember the last time his family had been whole. The regret was the only thing that played with his heart strings as his father’s fingers ran through his hair.

When his mind began to think, and his feelings began to drip away, Tommy felt oddly calm. He gave Phil a small smile, disheartened by the concern etched into the older man’s blue eyes. His dad smiled back sorrowfully.

Tommy didn’t understand love. There wasn’t a lot that went around in his family, and he wasn’t spared any from those in this world. Only Tubbo showed him love, and the blond felt eternally guilty for his inability to show it back. Tommy only understood harsh words, calculating looks and sharp quips that hid emotions easily.

But, as Phil looked down at him from his spot sitting beside his son, Tommy thought he could see the love.

Maybe.

Phil doesn’t ask Tommy what’s wrong. Tommy knew did wouldn’t need to, because the teen crumbled under the comforting look his dad was giving him.

“I saw Wilbur... he was sitting with- with Schlatt,” Tommy mumbled, suddenly embarrassed by how unbelievable and childish it sounded.

Phil didn’t laugh at him like Tommy half expected him to. The older man didn’t even question him. He just nodded, hand stilling to gently pat Tommy’s head.

“How did it make you feel? To see them... after everything...” Phil asked quietly.

Tommy knew his dad was grieving, unable to actually approach any kind of discussion of Wil’s death. Somewhere, the teen was grateful for his dad’s effort.

 _I didn’t think he’d care,_ Tommy admitted quickly and pushing away the guilt that pooled in his stomach.

“I don’t... know?” he took a deep breath, eyes suddenly trained on the dark oak ceiling. “But... in a way, I’m- I’m glad, I guess.”

“That’s good,” Phil told him sincerely.

The older man pulled his hand from Tommy’s head and the teen immediately missed the warmth. Phil began to stand, and Tommy couldn’t fight the panic the suffocated him, bile rising in his throat.

_He’s leaving again, no. No, he’s gonna leave again, and I’ll be all alone... don’t leave me, don’t leave, Dad, P L E A S E..._

A bony hand gripped the dark fabric of Phil’s robe, knuckles going white and hand shaking lightly. Phil frowned, as Tommy held fast, eyes still glued to the ceiling.

“Don’t go... please. Just- for tonight, Dad,” he whispered into the cold room.

“Of course, Toms, don’t worry,” Phil said immediately, rushing to fix his error as he sat back down. “I’ll stay with you, darling. I’m right here.”

Tommy wished he could believe those words.

_TommyInnit doesn’t cry._

Well, maybe that’s not completely true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m still suffering from last night’s stream, like, W O O F
> 
> thank you for reading!


End file.
